WE ASTONISH OUR FOES
Slowly the sun arose, and as its first rays lighted the cloudless sky
Ilalah came gliding from the palace and sprang lightly up the steps
that Duncan had let down in order to receive her. Once she was in the
car we all breathed easier, and the inventor especially showed his
content and exultation.
“Now let them come!” he cried; and each of us felt that the sooner the
suspense was over the better we would like it.
King Nalig-Nad gave us plenty of time, though, and we had breakfast
while we waited, the princess accepting her share with gracious
enjoyment of a meal quite novel in her experience. She was so
unaffected and so charming in her manner that already we began to
consider her one of us.
At last the king and his chiefs emerged, and we could see by their
stern faces that a climax in our adventure had arrived.
Moit was ready for them. He backed the machine around until it was
facing the barricade and as far removed from it as the enclosure would
allow. He had made Ilalah crouch low on the floor of the car, so that
her people would not discover her presence.
A spokesman advanced from the group of warriors and demanded Bryonia’s
promised answer.
I opened a side window and said, boldly and in a loud voice, that we
had played with the San Blas people long enough.
“You annoy us with your foolish demands,” I added, “and we cannot
bother to remain with you longer. Had you been friendly, we would have
favored you; but you are silly children, and so we leave you.”
As I finished speaking Duncan opened the window in front of his
steering wheel and aimed a shot from his revolver at the red chalk mark
on the barricade that marked the location of the explosive. There was
no result, so he fired again, and still again.
The natives, at first furious at my insults, now paused to wonder what
the big white slave was shooting at, and I saw that the inventor’s
nervousness or lack of marksmanship was likely soon to plunge us into a
deal of trouble. Leaping to his side I pushed him away and took careful
aim with my own revolver.
A crash that seemed to rend the very air followed. The machine was
hurled backward against the king’s palace, from which a rain of mud
bricks and bits of wood rattled down upon us, while all the open space
of the enclosure was filled with falling debris.
Shrieks of terror and pain followed, while we, who had all been dumped
in a heap on the floor of the car, scrambled up and took note of what
had happened. The wall had vanished, and only a ragged depression in
the earth remained to mark the place where the barricade had lately
stood.
None of us was injured, fortunately, and as soon as Duncan had assured
himself that Ilalah was alive and unhurt he sprang to the lever and
the machine bounded forward and skimmed light as a feather over the
littered ground.
I tried to look out and wave an adieu to King Nalig-Nad; but we were
off like a shot across the meadows and all I could see was a mass of
excited natives rushing here and there in wild confusion.
After fifteen minutes of this terrific speed Moit moderated our pace,
for we were miles from the village and pursuit was impossible.
“Where now?” he asked, his voice seeming to indicate that he cared not
a rap, since we had managed to escape with the beautiful princess.
“It will be well for us to find that valley of diamonds as soon as
possible,” said I, “and secure our plunder before the king can raise
the alarm and head us off.”
“All right; where is it?” he demanded.
I produced the map and pointed out the location of the valley, which
appeared to lie in a fork of the river, far to the south.
“We are now somewhere to the east of the king’s village,” I observed.
“The hilly ground ahead of us rises to small mountains between here
and the sea; but if we turn south there is open country clear through
to the forest-clad mountain range, and when we reach the forest we can
follow its edge until we come to the diamond valley.”
“That is clear enough,” replied Moit, looking over my shoulder.
So we turned south, and presently came to a stream with such steep
banks that we could not cross it. The map had not prepared us for
this, so we kept to the eastward, endeavoring to find a crossing,
until we reached a marsh, and found our wheels sinking into a soft and
treacherous bog.
We backed out just in time to avoid serious trouble, and had to go
north again, skirting the marsh slowly and with care until we were once
more in the hills we had recently left.
This was decidedly annoying, and we appealed to Ilalah.
“Is there not a path from here to the mountains?” I asked.
“Oh, yes;” she said; “there must be many paths.”
“Do you know them?”
“Not to go to them from here. Often I and my women cross to the great
forest from our village; but we seldom come here at all.”
“I don’t blame you,” growled Moit. “This part of your country isn’t
worth photographing. What shall we do now, Sam?”
“I don’t like to go back,” said I, studying the map with a suspicion
that its maker had never been in this section at all. “But we might try
these hills. If we could find a path over them it might lead us around
the marsh, and then we would be all right.”
“How do you know? There may be more marshes,” he suggested.
“It may be. This is all guess work, it seems--map and all. But if we
reached the ocean we could run along the beach at low tide, and make
good time.”
“It is certainly worth a trial,” he said; “and if we fail we cannot be
any worse off than we are at present.”
I doubted that the automobile would be much of a hill-climber, because
until then I had a notion that the heaviest machines, with the most
power to move their weight, could climb the easiest. But a few minutes
removed that erratic idea from my mind. We skimmed up the slopes as
lightly as an ibex, and went down them much more safely than a heavy
machine under the strain of brakes could do. And so, winding around
this hill and over that, we kept on at an easy pace until the breath of
salt air could be felt and we knew we were close to the sea.
But now the hills became rocky and more difficult. One good sized mound
stood right in our way, and after a close inspection of it through our
telescope (for Moit seemed to have forgotten nothing in fitting up his
automobile) we saw a broad ledge running around its right side which
promised a way through to the coast.
By now it was after midday, for much time had been consumed in seeking
a path through this wild and unknown country. So we halted for
luncheon, and as we ate I said to Ilalah:
“How did you learn to speak such fine English, Princess, when your
people have always hated the whites and tried to drive them from your
dominions?”
“The king my father,” she answered, “is very wise. From his captives he
has learned that half of the people of the world speak English. So he
thought it would be best for some of the Techlas to speak English too.
One day our watchers brought to the king a man and a woman, who were of
the English but could speak a little Spanish too. My father promised
them life if they would teach us to speak the English tongue. So the
man taught the king and his noble chiefs each day in the courtyard of
the palace, while the woman taught the foreign tongue to me and my
favorite attendants in our own rooms. It was a long task and a hard
one, but after many moons some of us could speak and understand the
English well enough.”
“Did you also learn to read?” Duncan asked.
“No. My father says written words are lies, for when you read the signs
you cannot read the speaker’s eyes and know that he speaks truth. The
Techlas do not love the sign language, and will not have it.”
“That is foolish,” I said. “If you cannot read, you cannot know what is
going on in the world.”
“And that is what we do not wish to know,” she answered, smiling. “My
people say that to hear of other people is to make unhappiness. We live
only our own lives; so why should we care what happens in other lives
in other countries?”
It struck me there was some sense in that, if their own lives were
sufficient to content them.
“What became of the white man and woman who taught you?” asked Duncan.
“After we had learned to speak their tongue my father killed them,” she
answered simply.
“Then he, too, lied,” I said.
“Not so. He promised them life if they would teach us, and they lived.
But he could not promise them life for all time, because all life is
uncertain.”
“So he killed them?”
“Yes; having no longer need for them. They were white, and the Techlas
hate all white people.”
“Because of their color?”
“Because they once robbed our people and drove them from their homes.”
“Listen, Ilalah,” said Duncan, earnestly; “the white race that wronged
your people was the Spanish race; but there are many whites that are
not Spaniards--any more than are all Indians Techlas. So you have no
reason to hate us, who are not Spanish and have never wronged you.”
“I do not hate you,” she answered, taking his hand and pressing it
fondly. “I love you.”
“But your people do.”
She grew serious.
“If I should come to rule my people,” was the slow answer, “I would
command them to hate and to kill only the Spaniards. But I will never
rule them, because I shall go with you to your own country, where you
are the king, and help you to rule your subjects.”
I laughed at the idea, although the sentiment was so pretty. Duncan
frowned at me. He did not tell the Indian maid that he was merely
a bankrupt inventor, with no subjects and no wealth aside from the
possession of his really wonderful machine. Why should he?
We now moved on again, following the natural ledge of rock that wound
around the hill. The precipice beside it grew deeper and more dangerous
as we advanced, and the ledge narrowed until often there was barely
room for the machine to pass around a projection. Also the ledge
sometimes inclined toward the chasm at an awkward angle that forced us
to crawl cautiously along and rely upon the rubber tires to keep us
from slipping off the rock entirely.
Not knowing from one moment to another what the windings of the
ledge were about to disclose, it is obvious that our journey was
as interesting as it was exciting. But we kept moving with dogged
perseverance until, with the end almost in sight, we were brought to an
abrupt halt by the total disappearance of the ledge itself.
With a precipice in front and one at our right, while a steep wall of
rock towered at our left, we had no trouble to decide that we must go
back by the same nerve-racking path we had come. This was the more
embarrassing that we had no room to turn around, and it was no easy
task to back the machine over the dangerous places.
Duncan made us all get out and walk. The way he steered the machine
along its crab-like course filled me with wonder and admiration, and I
am sure Ilalah considered him little less than a god.
We had dropped the dome top to bring the weight closer to the ground,
and if the automobile chanced to slip over the edge Duncan would have a
good show to leap out and save himself. Yet so dear was the machine to
its inventor that I feel positive that Moit, at any time before Ilalah
had enslaved him with her sweet face, would have gone to his death
in it without hesitation rather than live to see it demolished. But
the pretty Indian princess now possessed his heart as the automobile
had possessed his brain, and with such a divided allegiance I looked
to see him jump in case anything went wrong. But nothing did, and so
the occasion to test the strength of his affection for the girl or
the machine did not transpire. Knowing so accurately the capabilities
of his marvelous invention, he was able to guide it safely until we
reached once more the base of the hill and came upon level ground.
Then we all breathed again, and entering the car held a council to
discuss our future actions.
“Isn’t the Atlantic coast inhabited by your people?” I asked Ilalah.
“Only in the northern part, where the cocoanut groves are,” she
answered.
Then, as we questioned her, she told us some interesting things about
her people. Off the coast were several islands, also inhabited by the
San Blas Tribes, the chiefs of which all paid tribute to Nalig-Nad.
These tribes hated the whites even more venomously than did the
dwellers on the mainland, although they traded constantly with many
ships that came to them for their cocoanuts, which are considered the
finest grown in all the world.
She said these ships were from many countries, but their crews were
never permitted to sleep a night upon the shore and merely landed to
make their trades with the natives. The San Blas people built great
pyramids of cocoanuts close to the landing places, and when a ship
arrived the natives retired and allowed the traders to come ashore and
examine and count the supply of cocoanuts. When they had estimated the
worth of the offering thus made them by the Indians they placed beside
the pyramids such articles as they were willing to exchange, including
beads, clothing, tools and liquors. Then they all retired to their
ship and allowed the Indians to advance and look over the goods. If
they were satisfied it was a fair exchange they took the plunder away
and permitted the traders to load the cocoanuts upon their vessel; but
if the San Blas considered the offer too little, they left the goods
untouched and again retired. Then the traders must add more, until the
natives were content, before they undertook to remove a single cocoanut.
No other form of communication ever took place between these two
inimical races, and the San Blas island tribes were so rich in
cocoanut groves and so shrewd in trading, that they were the most
prosperous subjects the king could boast.
Smaller groves were also on the mainland, south of the marsh country,
and traders reached that district by entering a bay and the mouths of
one or two rivers. But all trading was there conducted in the same
manner as upon the islands, and it was only in the north, where we
had entered, that the whites came occasionally to trade for skins,
tortoise-shell and grains from the farm lands, and with these parties
Nalig-Nad personally conducted the trading and was thus able to
jealously guard his border from invasion.
I would like to say, at this point in my digression from my story, that
many travellers who have had no personal experience with the San Blas
Indians have been induced by the unreliable gossip of the traders to
write preposterous tales concerning the manners and customs of these
interesting natives. As a rule such descriptions are very misleading,
and I am quite positive no white men before our visit to the Techlas
have ever had the same opportunities to observe their country and
their customs as we had.
So much time had been lost in our futile journeying and in discussing
our plans with the princess, that the sun was now low in the horizon.
It was discouraging to reflect that in all that long day we had
accomplished nothing at all since our escape from the village.
To endeavor to cross an unknown country at night would be folly; so
there was nothing to do but find a convenient place to camp until
morning.
“Our safest plan,” I counselled, “is to return to the river the way
we came, and paddle upstream as far as possible. Then we can take to
the bank and still follow the stream to the valley of diamonds. Our
departed friend, the German, was not a success as a map-maker; but we
know that he followed the river in the way I propose, so that part
of the country is probably depicted on the map with a fair degree of
accuracy.”
“This plan will oblige us to pass the villages again,” objected Moit,
“and that will mean a fight.”
“Not necessarily. The country is level there, and we can dash by at
full speed, before they know we are coming.”
It really seemed the only practical thing to do; so we decided to get
as near to the king’s village as possible without danger of being
observed, and then wait until daylight to regain the river.
I kept watch through the telescope as we bowled along over the smooth
meadows; and when, just at dusk, I sighted the distant enclosure, we
came to a halt.
While Nux and Bry cooked us a good supper the rest of us got out of
the car and strolled to the brook to stretch our limbs. I felt that
“three was a crowd” and let Duncan and Ilalah walk by themselves. They
wandered so far and were so deeply occupied by their own interesting
conversation that when the meal was ready I jumped into the machine and
ran it over to where they were sitting side by side on the bank of the
brook.
It was easy enough to do, for I had watched Moit very carefully; but
the inventor was not at all pleased with what he called my “infernal
meddling,” and told me to keep my hands off his property thereafter.
When darkness came on and it was time to sleep I proposed rigging up a
little room in the front of the car for Ilalah by suspending blankets
from the dome to the floor. In this way the princess would have all
the seclusion of a private apartment. But Duncan protested that he had
no intention of sleeping while we were in so dangerous a position, and
Ilalah very promptly decided to sit up with him and keep him company.
So there was no need for the rest of us to do more than lie down and go
to sleep, an undertaking which we accomplished with much satisfaction.